Out of sight, out of mind
by OhMyLeppy
Summary: Canada is sick of being ignored, in fact, he's been sick of it for a very long time. Driven partly insane by loneliness, he turns to hurting himself. But one day it becomes to much and he wants to end it. But for once, Canada is going to make a fuss. He's going to let the other's know what they have done to him.
1. You hurt me, so I'll hurt myself too

**AN: Heyo, my creatures! I have finally written a Hetalia fic! Now I'm starting to delve into my dark side... My alter ego would like a word...**

**Alter: Hello, I am the reason why Leppy is NOT allowed to type in the middle of the night. She can come up with dark, twisted stories. Enjoy, my savages**

Why could no one see me? I asked myself that everyday, many more times than I could count. Well, people could see me sometimes, but that was very rare. What did I do to deserve this? No one likes to be ignored, _constantly, every single day_ of your _life_!

_SLASH_

Was it because I was too quiet? I know I don't say much, but every one else is so loud. I feel like I'm drowning in all of the noise. Besides, if I spoke, it's not like any one would listen. They would just talk over me. If someone actually heard me, I can't even respond, I'm so shy. But I can change that! Maybe I could be louder, maybe...

_SLASH_

Was it because I'm to polite? I never interrupt anyone. I never speak out of place. I just let people push me around. I let them hurt me for no reason. But I could change that! Maybe I could be more like America, maybe...

_SLASH_

Was it because I was a freak? I'm the quiet country. The one that doesn't like fighting. The one that is scared of intimacy. No other countries are like that. But I could change that! Maybe, I could pretend to like other things, to be less of a freak, maybe...

_SLASH_

No one saw me. 'No one _cares_ to see me.' I realised, horribly. 'No one _wants_ to see me.'

_SLASH_

It would be better if _no one_ saw me

_SLASH_

It wouldn't matter

_SLASH_

No one would care

_SLASH_

No one would notice

SLASH

No one would even _see_

_SLASH_

Red blood streamed from the ten new cuts on my arm. It dribbled down and landed on the carpet, a constant pattern symbolising my pain.

_DRIP DRIP DRIP_

They slashed across previous scars, some almost completely faded and some that were still red. It wasn't the first time he had ever done this, after all.

_DRIP DRIP DRIP_

'If I let the blood flow, I would just die. I wonder if anyone, anyone at all, would remember me and come check.' I thought idly.

_DRIP DRIP DRIP_

Then red hot anger filled me. I was right, no one would see if I died here. No one would know! 'Well, I'll make them see!' I thought determinedly, wrapping my arm quickly in some bandages that I had strewn across the table. I packed a few things in my pockets that I would need for the meeting and started to run. I left Kuma here, I didn't want the bear to see what I was about to do.

Hopefully, no one would forget this meeting for a long time.

"Okay guys," America began, "this is what we'll do. I'll be the hero, of course, and England can be my sidekick! He can feed them his stupid scones and they'll get stomach damage. Or better yet, he can through the scones at them as missiles. They're hard enough!"

"How dare you!" England declared. "Those scones are great! Ask anyone!"

Everyone around the room mumbled in disagreement.

"See!" America announced. "Everyone thinks your cooking sucks!"

"Well, it's not like you asked me!"

The room fell silent. They all stared at the door where Canada was leaning against. There was something they didn't like about his expression. It seemed rather... dark. But what scared them more was the bandages wrapped around Canada's arm. It was stained red with blood, so much so that there was hardly any white left.

"Oh, hey bro," America said somewhat awkwardly. "You're right, I didn't ask. What do you think about England's cooking? And, uh, your arm-"

"It doesn't matter!" Canada snapped. "Besides, it's not like you would listen. You never listen! You never even see me!" He stormed past America and climbed up onto the table, standing tall on it.

"Well? Do you see me now!?" He demanded. "England? Do you finally recognise me?"

"Canada, bro. Calm down, we-"

"What about you, France?" Canada interupted.

"Of course I see you, my little Canada."

"No! NO! I am NOT 'your little Canada', okay!?" Canada screamed, he could feel tears running down his face. "No one can see me! You all ignore me, you all hate me!" He gave a slightly maniacal laugh and said "After all, out of sight, out of mind, right!?" He laughed some more.

'Okay, things are getting really bad.' England thought worriedly. 'He's going hysterical!'

"I'll make sure that you all will remember me!" America jumped onto the table to tackle Canada. But before he could, Canada pulled a deadly looking carving knife from his pocket.

"What are you doing with a knife!? Never mind, just put it down, slowly." America held his arms up in a placating guesture.

"No!" Canada's sobs slowed, until they were just whimpers. "I...I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want to be ignored." After saying this, he turned the knife and plunged it deep into his stomach.

America's cry was the last thing he remembered.

**AN: Well, my creatures, what shall happen in the next chapter? Will the Canada die, or will he live? Will the others mourn at his funeral, or will they help him recover both physically and emotionally in the hospital? Well, it is all up to you. Let me know if you would like to see how this continues... Farewell, my creatures**.


	2. Twisted News

**AN: Heyo, my creatures! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a bit...or at all. I had minor writers block...and was lazy...and was neglecting it. Don't worry! I know exactly what to write! I'm sorry it's short, this is more of a filler chapter.**

"Hey! Doctor! Yeah, you!" America called, rushing towards a man in a white coat. France followed close behind.

"Yes, hello America." The doctor said with a scottish accent and a dreading look on his face. That look alone had France's stomach crashing to the floor. "No." he thought.

"Where's Canada? Is he okay!?" America shouted.

The doctor brushed his curly brown hair out of his face, only to have it spring back again. "Please, sir. Keep your voice down. There are other patients here."

"I don't care! I want to know how Canada is!" America shouted. France placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down and he'll tell us." America scowled, but he quietened down long enough for the doctor to speak.

The doctor swallowed nervously and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Well, I'm Doctor Furner."

"I don't care." America stated.

"Oh, well, anyway, your friend. He's fine-"

"I knew it!" America shouted, throwing his arms in the air.

"-for now." Doctor Furner finished.

"What?" America asked, slowly getting angry. "What do you mean, 'for now'?"

"The wound caused a lot of blood loss and some internal damage. We're not sure-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE NOT SURE!?" America screamed, slamming the man into the wall by his collar.

"America, calm-" France began before America interrupted.

"YOU'RE A DOCTOR! YOU SHOULD KNOW!"

"I'm sorry! There was too much blood loss! We have to be realistic, he's most likely not going to pull through."

"Wait," France interrupted. "Most likely? You mean there's a chance he'll live?"

"Well, that is rare. I'm afraid he's lost so much blood..." he trailed off.

"Just say it." America said in a low, dark voice.

The doctor sighed and looked America directly in the eye. "He will die."

That seemed to take all the fight out of America. He let go of the doctor and slumped. "How long?" he asked, his voice emotionless.

"At best, he has three days. After that, I'm afraid, he wont be here much longer." he said sadly. "I suggest you say your good byes." he then walked away, leaving yet another broken family behind him.

"America?" France asked.

"Don't speak to me." America whispered hoarsly. "I'm going to go talk to him." Before France could say anything, he strode into Canada's room and closed the door.

France sighed and collapsed into a nearby chair. He held his head in his hands, the very picture of a broken man.

They had rung the ambulance as soon as Canada had collapsed, unconscious on the conference table. Germany had done his best to stop the blood flow as they waited, but to do that he had had to take Canada's shirt off. There was silence as Germany worked, they were all staring at the hideous scars that littered Canada's pale arms. 'Why did he do that to himself?' France had thought. 'You know why.' A voice inside him had answered. He hadn't seen anything. He did't notice Canada as much as he should, well, not in the way Canada wanted.

He hadn't seen Canada tear himself apart.

He hadn't wanted to.


	3. Day 1

**AN: Heyo, my creatures. Heh heh, what do you mean? I wasn't ignoring this story! I'm not lyin- OW! Okay I was lying! **

**To the 1st Guest: Oh, countries can't die until their land is gone? Well... I don't care. I am happily ignoring that plot hole. I could change it to all human...but then I have to add a lot more backstory and such. But! If you have a username, tell me it and I will right an all human fic just for you! Then you can tell me how they can't die :P But thank you, any way for pointing it out. I was just sulking ;)**

Day 1

"Hey, bro." America said after he slammed the door, his voice unusually soft. He sat down on the hard plastic chair next to Canada's bed and sighed. There was silence for a little while. Neither knew what to say. 'I can't believe I failed at such a simple thing.' Canada that, exasperated. 'I shoved a knife into my gut! How did I manage to mess that up?'

America sighed again. "What are going to do?" he put his head in his hands. Canada didn't reply, he didn't know how to. After all, they had just witnessed everything, his attempted suicide, his hurting, and probably, his scars... How was he supposed to react to that? He hadn't planned on living this long!

America suddenly looked up, staring directly at Canada's eyes in such a way that he couldn't break eye contact. America's blue eyes pierced him and Canada was shocked to see that they were full of tears. "Why'd you do it?"

"I- I, uh..." Canada trailed off.

"I sat with you, all of yesterday, waiting for you to wake up and answer me! So tell me why!"

Canada was growing more than a little scared. He had never seen America this upset before, he wasn't sure how to react. "I don't know." he finally mumbled.

"Don't lie to me! Why did you try to kill yourself!? And that's not all, we all saw the scars! We were all horrified at what you did! No one could even say anything! How long has that been going on for!? Why did you hurt yourself!?" America took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Come on, bro. Why?"

Canada felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes, but he forced them back. He was not going to let anyone see how upset he was! "I didn't think anyone would care."

"What do you mean? Of course we care."

"Then how come no one noticed how upset I was all the time? Oh, that's right, because no one noticed me at all!" Canada glared at America, who had been shocked into silence at his out burst. Canada was never angry, but maybe that was their problem. Everyone just thought Canada was shy and quiet, so they just forgot about it.

"You're right."

"What?"

"I said, you're right. We're the ones who drove you to this. But you could of at least told us!"

"I tried, but no one listened." Canada said sadly. "Besides, it was a two way street, you could of asked." They sat in silence again. "None of this matters. You'll all just forget me when I get out of this hospital." America sucked in a quick breath. Before America looked away, Canada saw a tear escape his eye. America stood up and faced the wall, his hands on his hips. He couldn't help it, he let a sob out. Another one followed, more ragged than the first. Before he knew it, he was out right sobbing noisily, still standing upright and facing the wall. 'Oh God, what am I going to say?"

"America, what is it?" Canada asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He already knew what it was, he just needed to hear it.

America stood in front of the bed, still crying. He no longer cared about his pride, Canada needed to know he cared. "You- the doctor, he said..."

"He said I'm going to die, didn't he?"

"No!" America shouted, grabbing Canada's shoulders. "You're not going to die!"

"Oh," Canada said quietly. "I was hoping I would."

"What do you mean!? You don't want to die, you hear me! You're just going to stay in the hospital for a few more days!" he added. He couldn't tell Canada the truth. He knew the odds, they weren't in Canada's favor.

"Oh, but I thought the blood loss..."

"It's fine, Canada. You're going to be okay. We're all going to help you."

"Really? So, I'm not going to die?" America felt a little happiness and incredible, crushing guilt as he saw the small glimmer of hope in Canada's eyes.

"Yeah, you'll be fine." America hugged him, and he felt Canada tentatively reach out, before wrapping his arms tightly around America. 'I'm going straight to hell.'

They heard a knock at the door and America saw Dr. Furner's head poke through. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, but the visiting hours are over. I'm sorry."

"Oh, okay." America said, his gut plummeting. He let go of Canada and stepped towards the door. "Okay, I'll see you later, bro."

"Okay, later, eh." The last thing America saw before he closed the door was Canada's small smile. Yep, straight to Hell.

"Okay, doctor. I told Canada that he's going to be fine. And he will be fine. You will say nothing about dying, okay? Canada does not need anything to worry about!"

Dr. Furner raised an eyebrow. "Did you tell him the odds?" America's eyes slid away. "I see. Alright, I won't tell him. But I strongly suggest that he should know." America just nodded before walking away.

One day gone. Only two left.


	4. Day 2

**AN: Heyo, my creatures! So I'm finally finished with ignoring this! I'm particularly proud of this chapter, I don't care if it's bad. I loved writing it! Please review and tell me you loved it too! :3**

Dr Furner sighed as he went over a patients test results. It wasn't good. Yet another family he would have to deliver bad news to. He hated doing that, it was the same every time. They would know as soon as they saw his expression that something was wrong. He had never been good at that, hiding his emotions. Then when he told them one would break down crying. One would get angry and take it out on him, while another tried to calm them both. That was usually the person who denied his news and any facts. That was the usually person who would be hit hardest when the patient didn't make it.

'There's the person who broke down.' Dr Furner thought dully as he watched a blonde man with enormous eyebrows walk towards a patient's room. 'I remember that patient. Poor guy.'

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

"Hello, Canada." England said as he closed the door behind him. He sat down in the chair where America had the day before. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good." Canada answered, smiling weakly. Actually, he felt a littlle worse. Surely that wasn't right? But what did he know? He wasn't a doctor. As they said, it was always darkest before dawn.

England smiled back, just as weak. "That's good. I came here to...apologise. This is my fault, just as much as the others. If I had just- just payed more attention to you!"

"Don't, I already heard this from America."

"I know, of course you would of. But I need to say this. I should of saw what was happening to you. After all, you used to be my responsibility."

Canada looked away. He didn't want to remember that.

"I'm sorry for everything that I did to you. I promise, I will be better!"

Canada nodded. "Okay. But promise me something."

England frowned. "Anything."

"Promise me that you'll look after Sealand."

"Sealand?" England repeated, confused.

"So he'll never resort to what I did. Just look where that got me. Imagine Sealand..."

England had a horrifying image of little Sealand slowly dying in that hospital bed, just like Canada was now. He nodded. "I promise."

Canada smile became brighter. "Thank you. Anyway, do you know exactly when I'll be getting out of this bed?"

England frantically searched for an answer. America had told- well, he had ordered everyone not to tell Canada about his condition. Personally, England thought that Canada should be told, but America had looked pretty scary at that moment. Besides, at least Canada wouldn't be worried.

"Uh, soon." he finally answered.

"Oh, okay." Canada was confused. He had seen the internal battle England had had before he answered. What weren't they telling him?

"Canada! I'm sorry, but I have to go! It's really important!" Not waiting for an answer, England raced out the door. Canada shook his head, then quickly stopped because of the dizziness that caused. 'Still doesn't have time for me.' he thought sadly. 'Some things never change.'

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

England quickly wrote on a piece of paper 'Canada, blood loss'. He then lit a blue candle in the very centre of the table. He was performing a healing spell, this was sure to save Canada! Forget modern medicine, his magic was going to save Canada!

England had raced home, straight from the hospital. He had had no time to spare! He held the paper over the flame, and while it burned he chanted;

"Oh, Spirits and Sprites of the Blue Mist

Eternal Controller's of the Elements

Please bless my Beloved Child

With the gifts and power of Healing

Oh, Spirits and Sprites of the Blue Mist

Eternal Controller's of the Elements

Please bless my Beloved Child

With the gifts and power of Healing

Oh, Spirits and Sprites of the Blue Mist

Eternal Controller's of the Elements

Please bless my Beloved Child

With the gifts and power of Healing

Oh, Spirits and Sprites of the Blue Mist

Eternal Controller's of the Elements

Please save my Beloved Child

With your gifts and power of Healing"

The paper burnt out. Holding his breath, England waited for an answer. He got one.

"NO! YOU HAVE NOT TREATED HIM LIKE YOUR CHILD! YOUR WISH DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE GRANTED!"

"No! No, please! It's not his fault! Just save him!" England cried. But this time, he did not get an answer.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

"O-okay! Almost there!" England puffed out. He had spent the majority of the night climbing the Mountain of Magic- he had named it himself. Well, it wasn't so much a mountain, more like an incredibly large hill. At the top, in a great, old tree, a wise but anti social owl was said to live there. According to legend, the owl had incredible healing powers. But it would only help you if you were, humble, just and pure of any impurities. Now, England wasn't exactly pure of any indecencies, but Canada was as pure as they come.

"Finally, I'm here!" England paused for a moment, catching his breath. Pulling a leaf out of his hair, he looked around the owl. All was silent and empty on the hill, except for the enormous tree in the middle. England walked until he was directly underneath it. He couldn't see anything. "Uh, hello? Great, wise owl? Are you there?"

"You're damn right I'm great!" a small, but grumpy voice called out.

England gave a start. "Who was that?"

"Who do you think? Who else would live in a bloody tree!?" a small figure flew out from the very top of the tree. It landed on a branch level with England's head. Now that it was in the moonlight, England could see it was a small, brown, spotted owl.

"Are you the great, wise owl?" England asked, wonder in his voice.

"Yeah yeah yeah, if you don't mind, I'd prefer if you didn't call me that."

"Oh, what about Great owl?"

"No."

"Wise owl?"

"Flattering, but no. Just call me Evan."

"...Evan?" Was this the right owl. He talked, but he wasn't exactly what England expected.

"What, is there an echo hear?" he held up a wing. "No, don't answer that."

England huffed. He didn't have to be so rude. "Well, I'm hear for-"

"Wait, wait! Lemme guess, for healing, right?" the owl sighed. "That's all anyone comes for."

England swore, if he was interrupted one more time, he was going to strangle Evan, healing powers be damned. "Yes, but not for me. My friend, Canada, he's dying from blood loss. Tomorrow is said to be his last day."

Evan looked at him incrediously. "And you waited until now to find me?"

"Well-"

"Never mind! So, what's this Canada like?"

"He's very quiet and kind. He's always trying to help others, but we still never noticed." England sighed. "It's our fault he's dying."

Evan seemed to grow serious. "Hmm, I can see you regret this." he said, his voice having turned surprisingly deep. "Very well, I will help him. Do you have a vial?"

"Uh, I have a water bottle." stammered England, still shocked by the owl's abrupt voice change. He emptied it out and held it out. The owl hopped over, and cocked it's head so it's eye was directly above the opening. Then, a single tear rolled into the bottle. It was soon followed by many others, until the bottle was half full.

The owl hopped back. "There," Evan said, his voice back to it's lighter tone. "Make sure he drinks that."

"Thank you!" England exclaimed, screwing the lid tightly on. "I will be forever in your de- NO!" England had stumbled back over a tree root and had let go of the bottle. Aided by the moonlight, he could faintly see it rolling away, fast. He took off running after it. "Come back!" he screamed.

"Ha ha ha! Make sure you get that, I'm not giving another one. Bye, oh bushy-eyebrowed one!" having said that, Evan the Great Wise Owl flapped to the top of the tree, leaving England running desperately after his precious elixir.

Two days gone. Only one left.


	5. Day 3

France downed his lukewarm coffee in one gulp. He would've preferred something stronger, but as he was in a hospital waiting room, there wasn't much to choose from. He sighed; he would have to see Canada sooner or later. He glared at the door to his friend's room. It was this hospital's fault! They should know how to cure him! Blood loss? Pfft, why doesn't someone just donate blood? Unfortunately, as a country, Canada's blood was unique, and any other blood would cause him even more damage.

France sighed and pushed through the door. Avoiding Canada's eyes, he sat next to him. What could he say? He couldn't even bear to look at his little Canada.

"Um, France? Are you okay?" A timid voice asked. France looked up to see two shy eyes staring at him. Why did it have to be his little Canada? 'No,' a voice inside of him said, 'He is not yours, he never was.'

"I'm fine, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

France's stomach flipped. Canada wasn't getting any better. "Okay. Well, I need to tell you something." Before he even finished Canada had turned away and sighed.

"I know the others would have said this, but I really need to. Okay?"

Canada looked back at him and motioned for him to continue. France grasped onto his hand and paused, thinking. "Canada, I'm sorry. It wasn't that I didn't notice you, because I did, I just..." He trailed off. Canada squeezed his hand and he continued. France looked directly into the younger man's eyes, making sure his point was put across clearly. "Canada, you're perfect. You don't need others, you're strong."

"I'm not that strong..." Canada muttered.

"Yes you are! And I don't mean just physically, I mean mentally. America's an idiot, he fought for his freedom. But you, you talked your way out! One of the first countries to do so! You're so smart." France sighed. "I just wished I'd told you this earlier."

Canada gave him a small smile. "Maybe I need more emotional strength. My emotions seem to run away with me." France chuckled softly. 'Yes,' he thought. 'I just wish they would bring you back.'

Canada pulled the blankets tighter around him. "I'm cold." he murmured.

France slowly climbed onto the bed, careful not to squash Canada. He wrapped his arm around the Canadian's shoulders and rested his chin on top of his head. He slowly rubbed small circles on his back, immediately soothing the Canadian. "I'm tired." he yawned and snuggled closer to France. "Canada, I have to tell you something." He waited a moment and continued after Canada made a sound for him to continue.

Canada shut his eyes and buried his head in France's chest. He was so tired; surely he shouldn't feel this weak if he was getting better?

"I... Canada, I..." Canada felt a heavy fog descend onto his brain. What was happening? Where was he? It was hard to remember... France felt Canada go limp in his arms. He gently brushed his lips against Canada's golden hair that was so much like his own.

"I love you."

But Canada didn't hear him.

Three days gone. No days left.

AN: I'm sorry! I promise the next chapter will be better, and sooner.


	6. Lies told

"So, how are you feeling today, Canada?" Dr Furner asked as he checked his clipboard.

"I feel fine." Canada answered with a genuine smile. "I guess that sleep really helped me. It was the best I've had in a long time."

"You bet it helped you." France muttered under his breath. He didn't want to think about how close Canada had come with death. But he forced himself to. "Your little Canada almost died. It's your fault!" he accused himself. France fought back the tears that prickled at the back of his eyes. "But he didn't, so I'll look after him."

"Um, France?" France felt Canada's slim hand slid into his. "Are you okay?" The older country blushed at the attention and stared into Canada's eyes. 'So innocent.' He thought. 'So beautiful…'

"I'm just fine. We just have to make sure that you stay fine as well."

Canada gave a sad smile. "I can't promise much now, but I will try to get better!"

France squeezed his hand. "I know you will." Their bonding was interrupted when Dr Furner gave a shout as a certain loud blonde barrelled into the room and flung himself onto Canada.

"Bro! You're okay!" America shouted and squeezed Canada against his chest. He was thankful that he was facing the wall as he felt tears stream down his face. "I almost lost you." He whispered into Canada's wavy hair.

Canada pulled back, confused. "What do you mean? You said I was going to be okay… America?"

America's eyes widened guiltily. "Uh, yeah, you are going to be fine! That's what I said! Heh heh, what are you talking about? Don't be so silly." America grinned, but it was much weaker than usual.

Canada shook his head. Now he was more confused than ever! "Wait, what? Oh, never mind. I'm too confused." He closed his eyes and leant his head against the pillows.

"Yeah, way too confused!" America climbed off of the bed and chose to sit on a nearby chair instead.

Dr Furner, who had just recovered from being knocked onto the floor, winced at America's volume. "Okay, I know you're excited, but please keep your voice down."

"Yes, America," I added "We are in a hospital."

"Hey, I know that!" America shouted defensively. Dr Furner winced and muttered "Inside voices…" which went completely unnoticed by the American.

"Please, don't fight." Canada pleaded and much to France's surprise, the loud blonde sat down and didn't even complain. Not wanting to upset their sick friend, France did the same.

The door slammed open. "Why all the noise?" The doctor muttered to himself. He was completely ignored (again) as England rushed past him, slamming his shoulder like a rugby player into him and knocked him, once again, onto the floor.

"Canada! Oh, thank God, you're still alive!' England gasped.

'Still alive…?' Canada wondered. What was going on?

"England, are you okay?" France asked. "You look dreadful."

Despite how blunt he was, France was right. England's clothes were torn and covered in dirt and grass smears. There was even a leaf clinging to England's spiky hair. Several scrapes and bruises littered his face.

"Whoa, I was gonna ask if you got into another fight with France, but he's right here." America exclaimed. "Well, that and he can't punch at all."

"Hey!"

"Inside voices!" Dr Furner exclaimed exasperatedly from where he was reacquainting himself with the floor.

America threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, you're the one yelling." The doctor rolled his eyes.

"Enough!" England yelled. He reached into his coat and brought out a dirty, half crushed plastic bottle. Then, before Canada could do or say anything, he shoved the filthy bottle into Canada's mouth and tipped it down his neck.

"It's salty!" Canada sputtered. "Ugh, what is that?"

"Magical owl tears!" England announced. "They're to prevent you from dying."

"What!? You gave him tears from an animal?" Dr Furner cried as he got up and rushed to give Canada a plastic cup that was full of water.

"Dying?" Canada looked confusedly at everyone around him and propped himself up on his elbows. "I thought I was going to be fine. That's what you said, right America?"

America stared at the floor, unable to look at the other blonde in the eyes. "Yeah, I was sure that you were going to be fine. But…"

"But?" Canada prompted.

America finally met his gaze. "But the results said that you were going to die."

Canada fell back, stunned. He would've died. He knew he had wanted that before, but now…. "W-why didn't anyone t-tell me?"

England glared at America. "That's this idiot's fault! He refused to tell you."

"No! It wasn't like that." America pleaded. "There was a chance that you could've pulled through!"

"A chance?" Canada repeated dully. "A chance?" Anger began to seep into his voice.

"Yeah, a chance." America confirmed nervously. "I didn't want to worry you."

"You didn't want worry me? You all thought I was going to die and you didn't want to worry me!? I would have wanted to know! You all got to say goodbye, what about me!? What if I had needed to say something, but never got to!? But oh no, it doesn't matter, as long as I wasn't worried." Canada sneered. His chest heaved from his blow up. How could they? It was his life, he should have been told. Well, admittedly he hadn't cared about his life a few days ago, but still.

"Canada, don't blame America for this." France said. "We all chose not to tell you. I know it won't make much difference, but we're sorry."

Canada was about to snap back at him when he felt strong arms wrap around him. He gasped a little when France buried his face in his neck. Canada was more than shocked when he felt France's tears pour onto his skin and France's body started to shake. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so s-sorry!" France sobbed. He continued to do this and held onto Canada tightly as if he were his only lifeline. And in a way, maybe he was. With lack of anything else to do, Canada held France and rubbed small circles on his back, just like France had done for himself.

"Uh, we'll come back later." England said, feeling awkward around France's sudden display of emotion.

"Yeah, see you later Canada." America added, feeling equally as awkward. To be honest, he more or less ate his feelings. The two countries, and also the doctor, left Canada and France alone to deal with their feelings.

"France?" Canada murmured into his friend's ear. "France, are you okay?"

France finally pulled back, but he kept his arms around Canada. He smiled softly. "You really have to stop asking me that." He brushed a stray strand of hair behind Canada's ear. "You should start worrying about yourself, for a change."

Canada ducked his head and blushed. "I'm sorry." He said in a small voice. France gently lifted the younger man's chin.

"It is okay, your selflessness is one of the reasons why I love you."

Canada's eyes widened. France…. Loved him? He felt tears prickle his eyes. He had never known what it felt like to be truly loved before. And France was giving this precious gift to him? Little, shy, pathetic Canada? 'No,' he told himself. 'Not pathetic anymore.' He wrapped his arms tighter around France and buried his head in his chest, breathing in the faint scent of…. Roses? Well, the man always seemed to have one with him if he could help it. The rose is the flower of love, he had once heard him say.

He pulled back slightly and looked at the older country. "Thank you, I've never been loved before."

France cupped his face with a hand. "You have always been loved, my little Canada." He leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. "Je 'taime." He whispered.

Canada beamed. France loved him! France loved him! France loved him, of all people! Without letting himself have enough time to think about it, Canada leaned in further and pressed his lips to France's. He pulled back quickly and blushed even harder. France only grinned.

"You look even cuter when you blush." This only made him blush even more, if that was possible.

France's gaze suddenly saddened and his voice grew serious. "You have to promise me something."

"Y-yes, anything."

"Never hurt yourself again. Let me help you, I promise I will look after you."

Canada felt tears slowly roll down his cheeks, but he smiled. "I promise. Also…"

France stopped him by lying next to him on the bed, in a way so that they were both facing each other. France held him close, as if something would come to take his Canada away from him. "Yes?"

Canada smiled up at him. "I love you."

That was all he needed to say.

AN: This is me typing: Almost there… almost there….DON"T MOCK ME SPELL CHECK! I WILL END YOU!….*drinks water*…stupid keyboard!...SHUT UP SPELL CHECK! Y-YOU CAN'T SPELL!...*eats*…..uhhhh French….uhhhhh where's my languages book? Crap I lost it….WAHHHH WHAT HAPPENED TO MY INTERENET CONNECTION!?... Alllllllllll moooooooost theeeeeeeere…KISS!…..almost….FINISHED!WOOOOH!….this chapter….damn it…..no, Mum, I'm only doing homework right now…KILL ME….When does this chapter END!?...what? Nothing is wrong with my grammar! Learn freaking English spell check!... I'M NOT BLOODY AMERICAN! GIVE ME BLOODY ENGLISH GRAMMAR!...the hell is this? Whaaa? I didn't even know that word existed!...Oh thank god…only one more chapter to write…

And back to writing *a few minutes later* I LOVE THIS STORY! I wonder if people like this, too. Hmm, if only they would leave a review *sigh* But, alas, they do not care if Canada gets better mentally or if he gets upset again…. Foolish mortals…LEAVE ME ALONE SPELL CHECK! I'M ONLY A HUMAN! WHO DOESN'T SPEAK AMERICAN! I SPEAK AUSTRALIAN! IT'S A FRIGGING LANGUAGE ON IT'S OWN!


	7. Relapse

Canada's P.O.V

I hummed to myself as I made my way back from the meeting. It had been really good; it had been the first one I had attended since I got back from the hospital little over a month ago. It had also been the first time that the other countries had asked for my opinion. On nearly everything, too! England had asked me for advice on the economy, whilst America had asked about a bit more trivial matters, such as what burger (AN: There! I used an American term. Are you satisfied, spell check!? Are you!?) from McDonalds he should buy.

I smiled as I thought of France's gift. Every day, I had found an entire basket on either my doorstep or desk. Each basket always had had a note attached that read: 'you are always loved- France' Yes, I certainly feel loved. France had taken me to a nice café only yesterday. He wasn't afraid to show how much he adored me, either. France always held my hand when we were walking, or maybe when we were just sitting. France would sometimes catch me by surprise and pull me into a spare room and- well, let's just say things got active.

Because of France's advice (and constant persistence), I am now seeing a psychologist. She is helping me a lot. Apparently, I'm diagnosed with depression, borderline multiple personality disorder, sibling rivalry disorder and sever loneliness. That really doesn't sound good. I mean, I'm not that bad, am I?

"Bonjour, my little Canada." France greeted as he hugged me from behind. He leant over and kissed me on the cheek, making me blush. Damn it, I hate that blush, no matter how cute France thinks it is. "How are you feeling today?"

This had become a bit of a routine. Every day, France would ask how I was feeling. He would do it intimately like now, or casually work it into whatever conversation we were having, or even if he was far away he would always call me. It never bothered me in the slightest. To be honest, I loved the attention! Except, and I admit that this was a little unfair, I would get jealous if I saw France giving attention to someone else. He wasn't flirting with everyone anymore, but still. But France never failed to reassure me that he was only mine. Okay, so maybe I am a little possessive.

"I feel really happy, that's how I am."

France chuckled. "That's good. Nothing has upset you? Nothing at all?"

I hesitated before answering. "No, nothing. I-I'm fine."

France spun me around to face him. "Canada, 'I'm fine' isn't a real answer." he said, his voice immediately serious. "What is wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing really. It's not important." I tried to look away from him, but his hand pulled my face back to me.

"Tell me, it is important."

I sighed. "It's just, how long is this all going to last?" I continued when he frowned at me. "I mean, how long is everyone going to keep noticing me? Pretty soon, they'll all forget me."

"Canada! No one will forget you again!" he said fiercely. "Besides, if by some chance they do, I will always, always remember you."

I tried to gulp back the lump in my throat. "Yes, but how long will you love me?" I pulled away from him violently. "No, really? How long!? Why would love me when there are so many others that are so much better than me! Why, I bet you'll see some pretty girl and be all over her and forget all about the weird boy with the bear!" I held my face in my hands and stifled a sob. "You won't love me anymore."

France didn't answer me. He just turned and walked away. 'He knows you're right.' A voice inside me sneered. 'No one would want you. You're not worth it.' I couldn't keep it in any longer, the tears streamed freely from my eyes. Sobs racked my body and turned so violent that I was afraid they'd tear me apart. Glaring, I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists. "Stop crying." I muttered. It was working. I grabbed my hair and yanked.

"STOP CRYING!" I screamed. I screamed until my voice was hoarse, and then I continued to scream. I punched the top of my head exactly three times. "Stop! Crying! Now!" In my fury I ripped off my glasses and smashed them on the ground. I grabbed a sliver of the glass. Without thinking, I tore off my coat and forced my sleeves up.

"NO!" I flung the piece of shattered glass far away from me and ran down the hall. 'I will not cut again! I will not!' But what could I do!? Rage and panic clouding my mind, I raked my nails down my bare arms. I tore and ripped and scratched until my arms were covered with long, angry red lines. I had scratched so deep that some had even begun to bleed.

I collapsed on the floor and wrapped my arms around myself. What had I done? I held myself there. I was alone. I was damaged. I was forgotten.

AN: I'm sorry guys! Really, this was meant to be a happy chapter! It was also meant to be the last one, but I'll make the next one the last. I didn't mean for it to get so dark, it just happened. Jeez, what the hell have I been exposed to that makes me write this? I saw him doing this WAY too clearly. What? No, I've never done something like that before! I think… I really don't remember.

Oh, ahem, I, uh, I wrote a song for you guys… yeah:

Please write a revieeeew~

Please write a revieeeew~

Please write a revieeeew~

Because I. Am. You're. Friend!

Please write a revieeeew~

Please write a revieeeew~

Please write a revieeeew~

I. Hate. Spell. Check!

Oh, er, what an influential song. Later creatures!


	8. The Party

OoS OoM Chapter 8- The Party

"Quick, he's coming!"

"I can see that, you twat! I'm not blind."

"Will you two be quiet? My little Canada is almost here!"

"Sorry. Quick, bro, you better hide! I'll distract him!"

"Don't give it away America! Come on, France, you hide under the table, I'll hide behind the curtain."

"England, there is no table cloth."

"Just do it!"

"Shut up! I'm leaving now, he'll here you!" The door opened and let a sliver of light into the room, but it was quickly blocked and gone as America slid out of the room and closed the door behind him. The Axis and the Allies had been planning a party for Canada for the past week, since Canada's blow up right after a conference. France chewed his lip nervously. Would it work? Would Canada be okay? Ugh, it was useless asking questions. He would just have to wait.

-*outside of the conference room*-

"Hey, dude!" America greeted as he shut the door behind him, grinning brightly. Canada stopped abruptly.

"I didn't know you were still here, America."

"Oh, yeah, I'm just here, y'know doing work…" America swung on his heels nervously. Canada raised his eyebrows.

"You're staying back to do work?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Ha ha! I'm the work sort, can't you tell? Of course you can!" America babbled. He really needed a burger right now.

"Uh, okay, I guess so…"

"So, Canada, what are you doing? Are you also doing work?"

Canada blinked and shook his head as if he just remembered something. "Oh, yeah, I left my bag in there. So, if you don't mind I guess I'll see you later then." Canada moved towards the door.

"Wait!" America cried, holding Canada by his shoulders.

"What?"

"I, uh… Can you explain hockey to me!?" Yes! That was perfect! Canada could go on for hours about hockey.

Canada adjusted his glasses- they were new, by the way. "Uh, okay. Well, hockey is played by a team of…"

-*inside the conference room*-

"Okay, England, I think we are ready." France whisper-shouted to England.

"Wait!" Italy whisper-cried. "Germany, I forgot to paint the words on the banner!"

"What!?" Germany whisper-shouted in outrage. "Italy, you idiot! I asked you to do those two days ago!"

"I'm sorry! But its okay, I brought paint with me."

"Why do you carry around- never mind! Just hurry up!" Germany whisper-shouted back at Italy.

"Okay! Japan, I need a light!"

-outside of the conference room-

"And so if the A-team scores double the amount of the B-team, they would win because they have more points, obviously. Anyway blah blah blah, blah bah, blah blah blah blah BLAH blah! Ha ha ha! Blah, blah blah blah blah, eh? Blah bla blah blah maple blah blah blah. A-team blah blah blah."

That was basically what America heard. Ugh, he was so bored. Like, really really bored. He never been so bored in his entire life. And that includes England's lectures. What was taking them so long!?

-inside the conference room-

"Uh oh." Italy muttered.

"What is it?" Germany hissed.

"I, uh, I spelt a word wrong."

"Are you kidding me!?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Ugh, well, is the mistake noticeable?"

"Not really, I'll just leave it. Ooh, wait! I know! ...Okay I'm done!" Italy quickly packed up the paint and acting on a quick thought, he left the paint hidden behind England. He strained and tried to hang up the banner but it wasn't working. "Germany, I'm too short! I can't reach!"

"I'll do it." Germany quickly ran over from his hiding place (behind a barricade of chairs) and lifted Italy up so he could reach. "Hurry up!"

"Okay it's done! Quick, giddy up Germany!" Italy giggled as he rode Germany back to behind the chairs.

"This is the last time you're getting a ride." Germany grumbled.

"Okay," France called. "You can give America the signal."

England nodded as cupped his hands, getting ready to blow.

-Outside the conference room-

"And then if you end up hitting another player-"

"Hey, that's great Canada." America interrupted. Seriously, how much was there to know about freaking hockey!? "Why don't I tell you about my favourite sport, baseball?"

Canada furrowed his brow slightly. "Okay, go ahead." He didn't really like baseball anymore. Not since the last time they played together… he shuddered at the memory. He swore that America had hit him on purpose!

"Well, the only people who can play baseball the best are Americans, obviously. How you play is…" Since America was too busy prattling on about baseball, he didn't know the sharp whistle from inside the conference room.

"Well, you have the pitcher, the catcher-"

Whistle

"The names are really original." Canada remarked dryly.

Whistle

"I know right! Anyway, there's also a…"

Whistle

"And a…"

Whistle!

"What the pitcher does is pitch the ball to the batter. The batter has to…"

Whistle! Whistle!

"And if he misses, the person with the glove has to catch it…"

WHISTLE!

"And if they don't catch it, the pitcher has to throw it again. The other team has to have four people on every base."

WHISTLE! WHISTLE! WHISTLE! WHISTLE!

America paused. "Did you hear something?"

Canada blinked and shook his head quickly. He had honestly been spacing out through all of America's explanation. "No, did you?"

America shrugged. "I'm not sure. Anyway-"

"Actually America, I'd really just like to get my bag now."

"Wait, no! You can't!"

"Well, too bad, I am." Canada said as he dodged past America and into the conference room.

"No, don't turn on the-" America began.

Canada flicked the light switch.

"-Light." America finished lamely.

"Wha-?" Canada began.

"SURPRISE!" Suddenly the room was filled by various countries jumping out from many hiding places. Somehow, China had managed to hide inside the chandelier. England swore as he knocked over and spilt several cans of paint that some idiot had put behind him. It was probably France!

"Happy Birthday!" Italy cried and ran to give Canada a hug. Germany prevented this by grabbing him by the collar and yelling in his face.

"It's not his birthday, you idiot!"

Canada blushed. "What is all this about?"

France walked up to him and held both of his hands. Canada squirmed, but didn't look away from France's clear blue eyes. "We're celebrating you. We know that this has been hard on you."

"Yeah!" Italy added. "We wanted to through you a big fiesta to cheer you up!"

"And to show that we'll never forget you." England told him.

"Or abandon you." Russia said sweetly.

America pulled Canada out of France's arms and ruffled his hair. "Yeah, bro, you're stuck with us!"

France took Canada back and held him in a kind of hug. "Or that I will never, never stop loving you. No matter what."

Canada couldn't say anything. He felt so many emotions at the same time that he wasn't sure how he felt. But most of all, he felt loved. "T-thank you. Thank you!" Canada hugged France tightly and buried his face in the other man's chest so that no one could see his tears. "I love you, France!" he said, his voice muffled by France's sextravagant* clothing. France ducked his head down and kissed Canada slowly and softly.

"Whoa, I'd rather not see you make out with Canada." America said to France and making Canada's face flush red with embarrassment. "How about we just get on with the party, okay?"

Canada nodded quickly. Off to the side, Germany spotted an imperfection. Of course, it had been made by Italy, as usual.

"That was how you fixed the banner!" Germany said incredulously.

Italy shrugged. "I'm sure he won't notice."

-a few hours later-

"And so I said," England said drunkenly as he sat next to America. "America, you're so stupid, don't you know how to wipe your own bottom?"

"Dude, I'm right here."

"Shut up America! I'm not talking to you!" England declared, raising his fists.

America sighed. This always happened when they went drinking together. "Then who are you talking to?"

"Flying Mint Bunny!"

America snickered and clicked 'record' on his phone. "Flying Mint Bunny? Okay…?"

"Yeah, so as I was saying, America ended up falling in the loo-"

"Dude, that did not happen!"

"It did so! I was there!"

"So was I!"

"Well, you were stupid then. You could even wipe your bottom! I had to wipe your bottom for you! I have plenty more stories, too!"

"Hey, I was old enough to do that myself! Where are you getting this from?"

England slumped on the table, sad and confused. "What? But… who was it then? I swear that happened… Why can't I remember my own baby!? This is all your bloody fault, America! It's not mine: I'm from bloody England! I am bloody England!"

America rolled his eyes. Every single damn time… "How is it?"

But England had already moved on. "You were such a cute kid. But then you grew HUGE!" America flinched back as England flailed his arms about to emphasise his point. He grabbed America's collar. "Why don't you like me anymore? Why are you so mean? Where did I go wrong!?" England wailed and collapsed back onto the table. America patted his back.

"It's okay; don't worry, I'll make sure to give you a lot of aspirins later. Probably."

Canada smiled and shook his head at England's drunken behaviour. He frowned at the banner. It was painted in wonky writing "We Love You Canada! But the word 'Canada' looked like it was spelt as 'Canadia' because several love hearts between the 'd' and the 'a'. Funnily enough, the hearts made up the shape of an 'i'.

"Canada? I brought you some wine." France said as he walked back over to him. Canada nodded his thanks and took the dainty glass. France smirked as he watched Italy lead a drunken Germany around on the table. They were doing and odd interpretation of the cha-cha.

"Well, Canada, I must say that you certainly do have an odd family."

Canada put his glass down and wrapped his arms around France, leaning his head on his chest. "Yes, but it's my family. And you're the best part of it."

France smiled. "And so are you, my little Canada. I love you."

"I love you too."

The End- WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!

*No, I do not regret the word "sextravagant". I think it suits France perfectly.

AN: It's over! So sad, really, so sad. But, I, uh… heh heh, I sorta planned out an interesting sequel to it, if you guys are bothered to read it... It's up to you. I'm sorry, but France might turn out to be a bit of a jerk sometimes in the next one. Should I write it? Do you want one?

I'm sorry to all the sports fans; I put shame against the human and alien race with my terrible knowledge on baseball and hockey. Just take anything I actually wrote about it as bull.

Thank you to the people who reviewed! *narrows eyes at people who didn't* You…. Just you…..*sharpens sword* heh heh heh, oh, I will have some fun with you…It might hurt you permanently, it did for the others…

So, what did you think of this story? What was I good at? What did I suck at? What should I avoid at all costs? AT ALL COSTS MAN! Did you like it? :3

Later creatures! Till the next story!


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